"Demi," I call after her.
She pauses at the edge of the front door and looks over her shoulder. "You have twenty-four hours. Don't waste them pretending you're still in charge." She walks out of the house.
My chest rises and falls hard. I whip open the door, and anger simmers under my skin.
She gets into an SUV, and it takes off.
Demi wanted to prove she can come and go at will, and I can't stop her.
I'm about to shut the door when the SUV comes back into view. I freeze, wondering what Demi wants now.
Blue jumps out of the SUV and runs toward me, her hair loose, eyes wide with tears.
I don't move, wondering if my eyes are playing tricks on me.
The SUV takes off before she reaches me. She throws her arms around me, crying out, "Red!"
CHAPTER FIVE
Blue
Momentum carries my body straight into his, hard enough that my forehead clips his collarbone, and the sound that rips out of my throat isn't restrained or graceful. My arms lock around his torso before thought intervenes, fingers knotting into his jacket as if letting go would mean losing gravity altogether.
"Red," I say into his chest again, my voice wrecked and strained.
He freezes for half a second. Then his body closes around me, solid and decisive, one arm wrapping my back, the other coming up to cradle the back of my head. His palm presses, warm and steady, and my knees wobble like they've been waiting for permission to give out.
Gravel spits from the SUV's tires. The sound grows distant, then disappears completely until all I hear is Red's heartbeat hammering under my cheek and the waves crashing against the shoreline.
"I've got you, Bluebird," he murmurs, tightening his hold around me.
My shoulders jerk as the shaking hits full force. It seizes my ribs, and my teeth click together.
Wind whips harder, slapping against my frame and cutting through my clothes.
Red adjusts his stance, shielding me from the gust and leading me inside the house. He nudges the door shut with his foot, then reaches over and locks it.
He doesn't let go right away. He waits until my breathing stutters into something closer to usable before he eases back just enough to look at me. His hands slide from my head to my cheeks, firm and grounding.
My vision blurs, and tears spill, hot and relentless.
His jaw tightens. His eyes search my face like he's cataloging damage, questioning, "They didn't hurt you?"
"No," I answer. My voice cracks, then steadies. I assure, "I'm okay. Well, I'm not okay...but physically."
His shoulders drop a fraction, the worry bleeding out of him. He catches himself, stands taller, and firmly asserts, "You're safe."
I scrub at my face with the heel of my hand, then drop it. I spout, "I don't understand how the police found out about us. It's not their business anyway!"
Something flickers in his expression, but he pulls me into him, mumbling, "Come here."
I tuck my face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in, my hands pressing against his chest, then my fingers curl into his shirt, nails catching fabric when the tremor in my arms refuses to quit.
"Blue," he says quietly.
I pull back enough to look at him.
His hands slide from my back to my arms, thumbs pressing just above my elbows, grounding me in place. His gaze holds mine, and he states, "There's something you need to know."
